But then she nodded. Once.
And followed.
Her heart was pounding, her pulse fluttering beneath her skin—like a bird trapped, desperate to break free. Every step toward the dock felt heavier, charged. Like “slow and gentle” hadn’t just been a promise.
It had been a warning.
Damien guided her toward the dock where three jet skis waited, engines rumbling softly against the gentle tide.
Harper didn’t hesitate. With a practiced flick, she slipped off her button-down and shimmied out of her shorts, revealing the full curve-hugging glory of that bikini. She looked effortlessly confident, sun-kissed, and ready for her magazine cover moment. Then she tossed on a life jacket and tied her hair tighter like a woman on a mission.
Ashcroft strolled up beside her, all lazy charm and ease, then shrug
